Life Lessons
by DivaDelilah
Summary: Dawn and Spike have a talk about life.


**Title: Life Lessons**

**Author: DivaDelilah (**divadelilah@aol.com**)**

**Description: Spike and Dawn have a talk about life. Buffy's in it, too.**

**Disclaimer: In short, not ours. Joss/Fox/SandDollar/Mutant Enemy/UPN own all.**

**Distribution: Fanfiction.net, my yahoogroups (spuffy_fics and delirobins), DivaDelilah's Domain, any sites I've okayed, including award sites and various lists. Hell, just tell us where it's going.**

**Feedback: Feed me, ****Seymour****!**

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"…and so I never feel like I'm part of the gang, no matter how hard I try," Dawn said, staring at her feet miserably.

Spike put his cigarette out in the ashtray Dawn had brought, and leaned back in his chair. Being left out was something he definitely understood. Somehow, he couldn't see Buffy forgiving him for advising Dawn to beat them senseless, so he considered his options. He could gloss it over for her, telling her that high school is a time when people are immature and in the real world, they act like adults. But he'd be lying. Adults are just as likely, if not more, to form small cliques and exclude others for no reason except that it makes them feel important. 

"Well, aren't you going to give me some advice?" Dawn asked impatiently.

Spike sighed, and made a quick decision. "Bit, I'm gonna tell it like it is. You're not gonna like it, but well, sometimes you gotta hear the truth no matter how bad it sucks."

"Like when Mom had the shadow, right?" she asked her face darkening at the thought.

"Yeah, something like that." He stood up and thrust his hands in his pockets, trying to delay the inevitable. Finally, he turned back to her and spoke. "Look, Dawn, humans are not perfect by any means. Even when they grow up, most of them don't really grow up."

"Like Xander?"

"Exactly like the whelp. They go through high school being in cliques and clubs and groups, whether they are popular or not, and when they get older, they simply form new ones wherever they go. The Scoobies are a clique of sorts, I guess, and so is the Poof's gang in LA. Of course, that type of social behavior isn't limited to humans, but you know what I mean," he said, taking out another fag and lighting it.

"So that bitchy Janice who picks all those bubble headed bimbos for the Dance Committee even when I'm totally smarter than them is pretty typical?" she said softly, tweaking the loose thread on her skirt.

"Unfortunately, yes, pet. Girls like that are everywhere; hell, **women** like that are everywhere. Men, too. It'll happen to you at work, or the gym, or if you're like me, even when you're dead," he said ruefully, taking a deep drag off the cigarette.

"You feel left out sometimes?"

He barked a short laugh and she smiled a little. "Bit, you're looking at the original outcast. I wasn't accepted as vamp, thanks to Dru and Peaches and that bitch Darla. I'm not accepted by Scoobies because I've been evil. The demons hate me now as well, since I've switched sides and all. There isn't place in Sunnydale where one group or another doesn't wish me dead or gone or both," he replied.

"I don't want you dead, Spike. You're the only one who even pays attention to me. That is, unless I'm trouble or being made fun of," she muttered. "Although, lately you have been ignoring me for my idiot sister."

He grinned then, trying to hide how much her confession affected him. "I haven't meant, Nibblet. It's just…Buffy's going through some things since she came back. And I'm the only one who can really help her. The Scoobies just don't know what it's like to be resurrected."

"Is sleeping with her really that helpful?" Dawn said, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"What? I'm not—where'd you hear that?" he asked, his face a mask of confusion.

"I read her diary. If it helps, she thought you were good. "**Very** good, from what I read."

He looked at her incredulously. "We are **not** having this conversation, Dawn. First, you're too young and second, Buffy would kill me. And third, wasn't this supposed to be about you feeling left out?"

She nodded. "Yep. But you know, I took a chance sliding in a guess like that, and now I know for sure. Got ya!"

Spike ran his hands over his face and groaned. Buffy was really going to kill him now. He'd blabbed to her sister. Her **underage** sister. "Bit, Buffy will absolutely—"

"Kill you if she finds out. I know; I won't tell. **If**...you promise to come over and hang out with me more often. I kinda miss movie night, you know?"

"You win. As long as your sister doesn't mind, I'll come over and hangout with you some more. But you keep that lip buttoned, you hear me?" he growled.

"Okay," she said, then turned to look out onto the street. After a moment, she scrunched up her forehead in thought, and then asked, "Are they really any better than me just because they have stuff I can't even find, much less afford?"

Spike looked at her, disillusionment written across her face and flashed back to the moment when Cecily had turned him down. "No, Bit, they aren't. They're just petty girls, not even worth half of a beautiful, bright young girl like yourself or sister. I remember when I first came here, that cheerleader used to rag on your sister the way Janice is doing you. She wasn't worth half as much as your sister and the same go for you. It doesn't matter how many cool clothes or toys you have, it's who are you in the grand scheme of things. And I happen to think the Key plays a bigger part than some silly schoolgirls whose biggest worries are their dates on Friday night. Don't let them get to you. It's not worth it," he said, stubbing the remains of his cigarette out.

"Wanna go watch a movie? I rented Monty Python the other night," Dawn asked, her face lighting up at his praise.

"Sure. You go in and queue it up, and I'll join you in a minute," he said, looking out into the yard thoughtfully. Darkness had fallen during their little, and he let his demon face come forward as he searched out the source of the tingle he felt. "Slayer."

She stepped out from behind the big oak in her front yard and eyed him skeptically. "Since when do you give my sister 'life' pep talks?"

"Since she asked," he replied nonchalantly.

"And she asks you because…?"

"She's used to it. You forget who she spent most of time with while the soddin Scoobies were hiding out planning to bring you back."

She took this in, digesting the information slowly, and then came to a realization. _Spike, the Big Bad, William the Bloody…is hurt because they left him out. He told Dawn what he did because he didn't want her to hurt like he does when we're mean to him. Her eyes widened as she realized that Spike saw her in the same way as Dawn saw Janice. __Only it's not expensive clothes he doesn't have; it's a soul. Suddenly, her whole perspective on Spike changed. _

He watched her watching him, a curious look in his eyes. _Why isn't she talking? Is she angry at me? Again?_

Buffy sighed internally as she thought about the ramifications of what she was about to do. Giles was going to kill her. Pushing that thought to the back of her head, she smiled and said, "Well, aren't you coming in for the movie?"

He blinked twice and nodded silently, trying to gauge her motivations. 

"Spike, come inside. My feet hurt. I need someone to rub them," Buffy said, smacking his arm as she breezed past.

"Oh, that's it. Slayer needs someone to be her willing slave and **now** I'm good enough? Bugger that. I'm going h—mpphphh…" 

The passionate kiss she placed on his lips stopped his litany, and if it had been beating, it would have stopped his heart. "Come inside, Spike," she repeated, taking his hand and pulling him towards the door.

As he crossed the threshold and Dawn gave him a thumbs up, it came to him. She didn't just mean come inside her home; she was inviting him into her world. And that was definitely worth a foot rub.


End file.
